To Mend What Has Been Broken
by Elizabeth Goode
Summary: The sequel to By Some Evil Spell and Exiled. Estel is still recovering from the wounds he sustained in the previous story, both physically and emotionally. A quest from Gandalf for Estel, Legolas, and the twins might be just what the young ranger needs ..
1. Chapter 1

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Title: To Mend What Has Been Broken 

Sequel to: By Some Evil Spell and Exiled

Author: Elizabeth Goode

* * *

Disclaimer: I have never made money from any sort of fanfiction whatsoever and am more than unlikely to ever benefit financially from such endeavors in the foreseeable future. So, no actual rangers or elves have been harmed in the making of this work of fanfiction. So there. 

A full month and half again as long was the time that it took for Estel's body to repair itself sufficiently to travel once again. Under the care of Elrond and the careful supervision of his brothers and Legolas, the young ranger healed quickly and well. A lingering stiffness that could turn to a throbbing ache if overextended in his left shoulder was the only remainder of the injuries he had sustained, and Elrond assured him that with proper treatment and exercise, it would eventually heal entirely. He was still a bit thinner than his father would have liked, but he had been gaining weight steadily, if slowly.

Legolas watched him closely, perhaps even more careful in his observations than the twins or even Elrond. There were things that Estel told Legolas that he told to no one else, shadows in the Dunadan's gray eyes that only Legolas would recognize. For his efforts, the only payment he desired was to hear his friend laughing and joking once again, to see Estel sparring with his brothers in the courtyard, nearly up to his previous strength.

Now, Estel had finished facing off against Elrohir in a mock-duel. The elf had been the victor, but his victory had been hard-won. Elrohir leaned heavily against a tree, breathing hard.

"By the Valar, Estel! You are terribly quick!"

The young human grinned at his elven brother, still too winded himself to speak. Sweat drenched his hair and clothing, but it did not appear to bother him. Elladan, who had been watching the duel from the opposite side of the courtyard, raced to his brothers' side.

"Well-fought, Estel. If you are fighting a foe that you cannot best, make them pay for their victory dearly. That is a brilliant strategy."

Elrohir and Estel burst into laughter, and Elladan frowned. "What? What is so funny?"

"That is your own advice, brother. You are the one who taught me to fight that way." Estel stifled his laughter for a moment. "So, you are saying that you find your own strategy brilliant."

Giving his twin an affectionate pat on the back, Elrohir added, "Braggart."

Elladan heaved a long-suffering sigh and glanced over to Legolas. "And there was doubt that I was brilliant?"

The Prince of Mirkwood played along. "Apparently. Perhaps they do not take your status of eldest brother seriously enough."

"Eldest by mere minutes. That does not count." Elrohir teased his twin good-naturedly.

Estel had regained his breath, and now straightened his posture, running a hand through his sweat-soaked hair, an expression of distaste apparent on his face. "I must smell like a troll! If we are to have dinner with Ada and Gandalf, I will have to bathe and change first."

Looking down at his own more than slightly dusty attire, Legolas nodded his agreement. "The dust from the archery field seems to have permeated even my hair. I should do the same." He cast a dubious glance at the twins, who were even dirtier than he from sparring with Estel all afternoon. "We are all appallingly filthy."

The golden-haired elf was known for his dislike of dirt and grime, and long before Estel was born or thought of, the sons of Elrond had teased him about his meticulous ways. It wasn't that he could not bear the grime and dust that came of being out on a hunt, or the gore from kiling orcs, wargs, and other unpleasant creatures. It was that he simply preferred cleanliness whenever possible. So what if he insisted upon bathing when camped for the night near a pond or stream? What of his ability to perfectly re-braid his hair without the aid of a mirror?

Legolas shook his head as his eyes came to rest upon Estel, who at that moment was as disheveled as if he had been out in the wilds hunting orc for days.

"What? I've been working hard!" Estel knew exactly what his friend was thinking, and he grumbled defensively. "Prissy elf."

* * *

Half an hour later, Legolas was clean again, dressed and ready for dinner. He knocked on the door to Estel's chambers, and when there was no response, cracked the door open slightly. "Estel? Are you ready? It is time to go!" 

When there was again no response, the elf began to worry. He pushed the door open the rest of the way and called out again, "Estel! If you are not decently covered, it will be your own fault if you are unpleasantly surprised - " He stopped when he rounded the corner into the bathing room at the sight of Estel up to his chin in soap bubbles, head leaned back against the tub, sound asleep. When he exhaled a soap bubble grew larger, just to the point of bursting. When he inhaled, the bubble shrank once again. For a brief moment, Legolas was torn between running to fetch Elladan and Elrohir to show them the hilarious sight and waking the young human to save his dignity. In light of recent events, he decided upon a compromise. He wakened Estel and resolved to tell the twins what he had seen rather than show them.

Gently, he laid a hand on Estel's soapy shoulder and shook him lightly. "Wake up, Estel. We are going to be late for dinner!"

Estel's eyes shot open, and he immediately tried to stand. The firm pressure from Legolas' hand on his shoulder kept him in place.

"You might not want to do that. You've fallen asleep in the bath."

The ranger blushed, the color starting at his cheeks and spreading until his entire face was red with embarrassment. He rubbed his eyes and swore as the soap stung.

"It appears that this is not my day. Would you care to pass me that jug of water, a towel, and that cloth?"

Legolas did as he asked, then turned his back to allow his friend privacy. "Are you well? I am certain that your brothers did not intend to wear you out so much. Perhaps tomorrow you should take it easier." He fully expected to hear a protest from Estel, and so when the ranger agreed with him, he was surprised.

"You are right." Estel sighed in resignation. "I was overtired, and my shoulder feels like dwarves are mining for mithril inside of it."

"If there is mithril in your shoulder, then we shall have to keep you away from any dwarves on this quest that Gandalf has for us. I believe they can smell it from miles away."

"Yes, Legolas. All dwarves lust for treasure, all mortals lust for power and lack hygeine, and all elves are prissy and prone to making sweeping generalizations."

"I never - "

"You just did. You said 'never'."

"But you know I don't - "

Estel laughed. "Peace, my friend. I was joking with you. Has your sense of humor gone?"

"I shall be sure to inform you when I hear something funny." Legolas went into Estel's sleeping chamber and rummaged in his wardrobe for clean clothing. They were already running late, and Estel seemed to have no intention of hurrying. When he entered the bath chamber once again, Estel had rinsed the soap from his body and hair and wrapped the towel around  
his waist. Legolas tossed the clothing to the young human. "You are dawdling. Get dressed and come along, or I will do it for you and carry you to the dining hall over my shoulder!"

"That I should very much like to see." Elrond stood in the doorway with an amused smile. "Everyone is waiting for the two of you. Is anything wrong?"

Estel stood half-dressed, his hair dripping onto the floor, and Elrond could not help but to chuckle softly at the sight.

"I fell asleep in the bath."

Incredulously, the elf lord raised an eyebrow at Legolas, as if asking him to verify what he had just heard. "_In_ the bath?"

Legolas replied, "In the bath."

The young human nodded, turning red with embarrassment once again. "Go ahead and laugh, it is funny, I know. Though, I would remind certain Princes of Mirkwood that there are things I could tell about him that might divert the attention from myself, if I so chose."

Legolas' blue eyes widened. "You wouldn't dare."

"I would."

"You would not."

Elrond ended their friendly banter by clearing his throat. Both elf and human turned their attention to him. "As entertaining as it is to listen to you both, we really must go downstairs, lest Mithrandir decide that his quest would be better suited to someone else."

Reminded of the mysterious quest that they had yet to learn about, Estel quickly dressed, and then wrung the moisture out of his hair, pulling it back with some string in an attempt to tidy his appearance. Without even looking in the mirror, Estel followed Legolas and Elrond to the dining hall.

Frowning slightly, Elrond glanced furtively at his human son. It was, on one level, entertaining to hear that Estel had fallen asleep in the bath. He was certain that the twins would never let him hear the end of it. However, a nagging doubt in the back of the elf-lord's mind would not let him forget that his son had only just recovered from a terrible ordeal. If he was tired enough after a day of leisure with his brothers and Legolas to nod off in the bath, was he up to Mithrandir's quest?

Estel noted his father's worry, and smiled, genuinely touched by the concern exhibited by the elf-lord. "I am all right, Ada. I wore myself out sparring with the twins. Though, I nearly defeated Elrohir this time. I believe it was worth it."

Legolas laughed. "You fought well, my friend. I considered joining in for a short while, but when I saw how ragged you had run poor Elrohir, I decided to keep my nose clear of it."

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

**Title**: To Mend What Has Been Broken  
**Sequel to**: By Some Evil Spell and Exiled  
**Author**: Elizabeth Goode  
**Disclaimer**: I have never made money from any sort of fanfiction whatsoever and am more than unlikely to ever benefit financially from such endeavors in the foreseeable future. So, no actual rangers or elves have been harmed in the making of this work of fanfiction. So there.

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**Part II**

While dinner was being served, Elladan, Elrohir, Estel, and Legolas were on the edge of their seats in anticipation of Gandalf's quest. The twins fidgeted in their seats like elflings, and even the ever-graceful Prince of Mirkwood seemed to bounce with excitement. Estel's patience was clearly wearing thin, and just when the young human appeared that he would surely burst if something was not said soon, the wizard began to speak.

"All right, all right. I suppose it would be cruel to make you wait until after the meal." Gandalf's blue eyes twinkled merrily.

"Tell us, please, Mithrandir?" Elladan pleaded.

"Very well. I would have the four of you travel to Ithilien. It is subject to the rule of Gondor, but it's nearness to Mordor has emptied it of most of its inhabitants. You are going there to seek out and retrieve an old friend of mine, who is far too stubborn for his own good. As you well know, the forces of darkness are not defeated. They seek to regain a foothold outside of Mordor, and do not choose their victims at random."

At this, Estel rubbed his stiff shoulder unconsciously, and Legolas cast a worried glance in his direction.

"Who is your friend we are to retrieve, Mithrandir?" Elrohir inquired. "Surely we are not to arrive in Ithilien and begin shouting that we are come to retrieve to Rivendell the friend of Gandalf the Gray?"

Gandalf laughed. "If you did, the old fool would likely bolt and end up floating in some stagnant bog in Mordor before he stopped."

Estel frowned. "So, we're kidnapping him? If he doesn't want to go, why are we to force him?"

"Because, young Ranger. Just because."

"Gandalf!" Estel was almost whining with curiosity, and his elven family had to suppress the urge to laugh at the memory he evoked of a dangerously curious human child, who endlessly asked, "Why?"

At the tone of Estel's voice, Gandalf laughed again. "Peace, Estel. I did not intend to torture your curious nature with vague ambiguities. It is just that once I began, I found that I was rather enjoying myself."

Estel smiled. He had long ago learned to bear teasing with good humor, having grown up with Elladan and Elrohir, and in turn had learned from the masters the art of cracking wise. "There must indeed exist a course taught in vague ambiguities in wizard school, and surely you were at the very head of your class!"

Gandalf smiled, shaking his head and resting a hand upon Estel's wounded shoulder. "I knew there was a reason that I liked you so much, Estel Elrondion. A sharp tongue to match a sharp wit."

The hand on his shoulder was firm but gentle, and Estel suddenly felt a pleasant, tingling warmth in the stiffest, tightest place. The muscles relaxed considerably. He knew that Gandalf had done something, but the relief was so great that he sighed aloud, rotating the ailing joint.

"Castagath is his name. He is a stubborn man, my friend Castagath. When last I saw him, he dwelled in a cavern –"

Legolas let out a groan. "We are to kidnap an unwilling man from a cave? Why not let him remain?"

Gandalf sighed. "I would explain, Prince of Mirkwood, if you would refrain from interrupting!"

The wizard took a drink of wine from his goblet and continued. "Castagath was once a soldier of Gondor. He was trained as a healer in the Houses of Healing, and during one of the many skirmishes along Gondor's border with Mordor, he became separated from his company after he was sent ahead with some others to scout the nearby caves and set up a camp for the wounded. The attack came in his absence, and he lost his brother, father, and uncle that day. Castagath felt their loss deeply, as he had already lost a young wife and child to disease in the White City. He remained when the others had left. Many a gravely wounded soldier of Gondor has been left at the mouth of Castagath's caverns over the years, and a surprising number of them have eventually made their way back to Gondor. I met him for the first time only five years after he established himself in the caverns. I had heard of him in Gondor and wanted to meet the man for myself. I expected to meet a pasty-skinned cave dwelling hermit, but instead found an excellent healer, a brilliant mind, and a rock-hewn dwelling as inviting as the finest hobbit-hole in the Shire. Over the years, I have visited with the man on my travels, and have even brought him a few patients." Gandalf paused, a sad expressions crossing his face. "Castagath is stubborn. He has heard the distant orc-drums and the sounds of hammering from deep within the caverns for several years. He truly believes that he will be dead long before any creature of Mordor could emerge. He is an old man now, and I wish for his safety. Also, I believe that both he and Elrond would benefit from a meeting. He is needed here in Rivendell to exchange knowledge and train others in what he knows. It is said in Ithilien, by those hardy enough to have stayed, that Castagath's Mountain is the first omen that flight is necessary. They say, when the mountain falls, it is time to leave once-fair Ithilien for the safety of Gondor's walls. Castagath has refused to leave even when I explained the danger. If he will not leave at the request of an old friend, then perhaps an invitation from Elrond Half-Elven to Rivendell, hand-delivered by the sons of Elrond and the Prince of Mirkwood would do the trick. The stubborn old goat does have a fascination with Elves."

Elrond was the first to speak after Gandalf's tale. "I would very much like to meet this man."

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	3. Chapter 3

**Title: To Mend What Has Been Broken  
Part III  
Author: Elizabeth Goode  
Disclaimer: I don't make any money from writing fanfiction. It would be less than worth your time to sue me.**

**

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**The sons of Elrond, accompanied by the Prince of Mirkwood departed from Rivendell two days after Mithrandir had detailed their quest. If Elrond had gone a bit overboard in packing food and medical supplies, no one said anything about it. It was better by far to be overly cautious than to have need of the unavailable. Estel's shoulder still twinged occasionally, but it was almost fully functional, and he had two overprotective elven brothers and an equally protective elven prince to watch out for him. There was no reason to believe that things would not go according to plan, and Elrond knew that he could not justify keeping Estel at home without hurting the young human's dignity. There had been too much hurt recently for him to knowingly add more. Standing with Mithrandir at the gates of Rivendell, Elrond waved goodbye to his sons and to Legolas, hoping that the feeling of foreboding in his heart was habit rather than foresight.

* * *

"Estel! Would you put away that map! Terrible things have been known to happen to those who try to read while riding a horse!" Elladan reached over and snatched the map out of his youngest brother's hands.

"Give it back! I'm trying to familiarize myself with the area. I'm a ranger, remember? I need to see where we are, where we are going to, and commit to memory the route we have taken to get there. I'm not old enough to have had as much wilderness experience as some of the other Rangers, but if I'm to lead them, I must practice!" Estel scowled at his brother, making a grab for the map.

"Not while you're on horseback. It's dangerous." Elladan refused to budge.

Elrohir took the map from Elladan and folded it carefully shut. He then passed it back to Estel. "Elladan was once unseated from his horse while doing the same thing. He healed quickly, being an elf, but you would not. In his rather belligerent way, he is trying to spare you the same hard lesson."

Estel took the map and left it closed, placing it in one of his saddlebags. "I see. Why did you not just say so, brother?"

"Would _you _wish to admit to your younger brother that you had done something so silly as to fall from your own horse due to lack of attention? If you knew how careless I was, it might knock me from your pedestal of hero-worship, might it not?" Elladan grinned, his good humor returned.

Estel returned the grin, laughing. "I have no such pedestal, brother. Do not fear, you cannot be knocked off of an imaginary pedestal."

"I hate to interrupt your brotherly squabble, but it is nearly time to make camp for the night. Who will have first turn at cooking duty?" Legolas reined in his horse, causing the others to do the same.

Elrohir volunteered, preferring to get his least favorite trail duty out of the way as soon as possible, and as soon as a campsite was chosen, he got to work taking out the necessary supplies while Estel and Legolas built the fire. Elladan took the horses to a nearby brook to let them drink their fill.

After a satisfying meal of a stew made with dried venison, wild onions, carrots, and a bit of bread, they unpacked their bedrolls and prepared for nightfall.

Elladan had the first watch for the night. He sat with his back against a tree, listening and watching for any sign of trouble. The air was sweet and clean, no wafting scent of orc or warg was detectable here. Satisfied that they would be safe this night, Elladan began to let his mind wander in thought. Elrohir was sound asleep in his bedroll, lying on his side. Some distance away, Legolas was curled up in his own blankets, also asleep. Nothing was visible of Estel save his dark hair sticking up out of the bedroll. A fierce protectiveness rose in Elladan's heart. His human brother had borne so much pain in his short life. Most recently, with the creature of Sauron that had played on his worst, deepest fears. He shuddered at the memory of that creature in his own mind, the things it had driven him to believe and to consider.

Late in the night, when Elladan was just about to wake Elrohir to take over the watch, he noticed some movement from Estel's bedroll. Estel had begun to shift uncomfortably in his sleep. He saw Legolas sit up and lean over the young human, whispering softly in Elvish, his hand planted firmly on Estel's chest. With some astonishment, Elladan saw that while Estel's movements were slight, tears slid silently down his cheeks, silvery in the dim glow of the firelight. He wanted to go to him and give comfort, but it seemed that Estel was not entirely awake, and Legolas was calming him with the air of one well used to his task. _This had happened before._ The thought made Elladan's heart ache.

He waited for Legolas to finish settling Estel. The golden-haired prince seemed to know that Elladan would want to talk, and made his way over to sit beside him under the tree.

"Estel weeps at night?"

"In his sleep. He makes no sound." Legolas closed his eyes for a moment, leaning back against the rough bark.

"How long has this been going on?"

"It began shortly after he was – after the exile. It has gotten worse rather than better."

Elladan beseeched, "Why did you tell no one? Surely Ada could have given him something to help him sleep."

"Estel asked me – begged me – not to tell. He does not always remember in the morning, and he has never told me what exactly he sees in his dreams that distresses him so."

"We thought the nightmares had gone, that he was doing better …"

"They have not gone, but subconsciously, Estel has learned to be silent in his suffering."

"Could it be … the creature of Sauron that sought to destroy him before?"

Legolas shook his head. "No. I asked the same question, and Estel vehemently denied it, though he would not tell me what made him so certain."

"Next time, if this happens again on this quest, allow me to tend to him. Perhaps if he sees that I already know of his problem, he will confide in me, as he did when he was small."

Legolas patted his friend's shoulder encouragingly. "Perhaps. It is certainly worth a try."

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

**Title: To Mend What Has Been Broken **

Sequel to: By Some Evil Spell and Exiled

Part IV

Author: Elizabeth Goode

**

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**  
The four companions rode at a leisurely pace – Gandalf had assured them that while the quest was important, there was no need to rush madly to get there. Castagath would be there when they arrived. The important part was to make certain that the man departed with them for Rivendell.

For a week, they rode together without incident. The air was crisp and cool, the warm days giving way to early fall. The elves and the ranger were able to relax, to enjoy the weather and each other's company. After the first incident with Estel's dream, there had been no indication that he had had another. Elladan had been watching and listening, determined to discover what evil thoughts dared torment his youngest brother. On the seventh day of their journey, it had been several days since the last dream, and Elladan was beginning to have hope that perhaps the dreams had stopped, that the easy companionship of the past week had been enough to give Estel the strength and confidence to fight his dreams.

Elrohir had stood first watch, then had awakened his twin to take the mid-watch. Elladan wasn't sure how long he had been patrolling the perimeter of their camp when he noticed some slight movement from Estel's bedroll. He moved closer to his youngest brother, kneeling down beside him. Silent tears poured from eyes still closed in sleep. The sight was heart-wrenching.

Legolas was already awake, watching Elladan. "Do you wish to care for him, or shall I?"

Elladan met the grave eyes of the Prince of Mirkwood. "I will wake him and give comfort, as I did in his childhood. Go back to sleep, Legolas. I will wake you if I need assistance."

Legolas lay back down, but Elladan knew he was not sleeping, nor would he until he was satisfied that Estel would be all right.

"Estel! Estel, you must awaken, brother!" Elladan took a moment to remember which shoulder was the one that was still tender, and gently shook the other one. He had no wish to cause even the slightest pain. "Estel, awaken! Why do you weep, brother?"

Startled gray eyes opened quickly and darted frantically from side to side, searching. "Legolas?"

"Hush, Estel. It is Elladan. Legolas is resting. You were dreaming brother. The tears streaming down your face, but you made no sound."

Estel tried to cover his face with his blanket, but Elladan caught his hand. "There is no shame in your tears. I would know what causes you such grief, brother."

Shaking his head, Estel tried to protest. "No. It – it is but a dream. I am not so weak that I cannot weather an unpleasant dream. I am not a child, Elladan."

"True, you are no child, but I am your eldest brother, and it pains me to see you suffer so."

"I did not wish for you to see."

"But I have, and that cannot be changed. Allow me to comfort you as I did when you were a child. Accept my attempt, feeble that it is, to help you. Tell me what it is you see in your dreams that affects you so."

Estel sighed. In his mind's eye, he saw himself as a child of seven, held tightly in his elven brother's arms after a particularly bad nightmare. He remembered crying until his tears soaked Elladan's nightshirt, telling his brother what had frightened him, and the feeling of reassurance that nothing could harm him so long as he was held safely. That seven-year-old was a far cry from the powerful warrior he had grown into, but at the moment, he felt more like a teary-eyed child than a battle seasoned Ranger. He had not wanted his elven family to know of the dreams, but now that was a moot point. He sighed deeply and faced his brother.

"I dream of the things that I fear most. Battle, orcs, losing friends and family due to mistakes I've made …"

Estel stopped, and Elladan was certain that he was holding something back, but rather than cause his brother more distress, he accepted the half-answer he had received for the time being.

"Rest, brother. I will be here." Elladan pulled the blanket higher around Estel's shoulders, giving the dark hair a gentle pat. His human brother was already once again asleep.

* * *

It was ten days into their quest before they saw signs of orcs. A hastily buried campfire, a persistent reek of orc droppings, and evidence of a feeding frenzy, the unfortunate victim of which being a large buck, told the tale. For the rest of the day, there were telltale signs that orcs roamed the woods in this place. A hacked tree here, some orc dung there.

On the twelfth day of their journey, they stopped near a stream to water the horses and eat lunch. The day was warmer than it should be for the autumn, and so Estel stripped down to his underbreeches and plunged his body into the stream to cool himself. He felt the heat much more strongly than his elven companions, but as the cool water washed away sweat and dust, he wondered if perhaps he didn't enjoy the contrast of the cold water on his hot skin more than Legolas and the twins ever could.

"Ahhh."

Elrohir laughed. "I take it you are enjoying yourself, up to your neck in ice water?"

"It is not ice water, merely refreshingly cool. Join me?" Estel rolled over to float on his back in the waist-deep water.

Elrohir hesitated a moment too long, and found himself the victim of a rather forceful splash of water. There was no help for it now, he had to go in. Hastily, he stripped down to his underbreeches and joined his brother in a water fight.

When Elladan and Legolas returned with the refreshed horses, they found Elrohir and Estel wrestling and shouting in the water like elflings. A large splash of water that had been meant for Estel instead drenched Legolas and Elladan as they stood on the bank of the stream. It was only moments before there were three elves and a human engaged in a splash-fight in the stream.

When their energy was spent, four bodies lay side by side on the bank, waiting for the late afternoon sun to dry them out.

"How long until we arrive at our destination?" Elrohir yawned and stretched, then tucked his arms behind his head. "Because I could lie here for the rest of the day quite happily."

Elladan yawned, glaring at his twin. "You've made me yawn."

With a shrug, Elrohir replied, "What sort of answer is that? I cannot help it if you are so easily suggestible that you must do everything I do. How far along are we on our journey?"

Estel fought the urge to yawn unsuccessfully. "We are getting close. About two more days, and we should be there. The terrain is already beginning to change. Have you noticed that there are more rocks now?"

"Yes. More places for orcs to spring out of and catch us unaware." Legolas succumbed to the yawning epidemic as well. "We will have to practice extra caution from here on out."

"The orcs we have been tracking are at least a full day's travel ahead of us. They shouldn't cause us any problems, at least not unless they're heading for the exact location we are." Estel paused before continuing, "I'm more worried that there could be others nearby."

Legolas shook his head. "Let us not count orcs that do not yet exist. The more immediate problem is Castagath. Do we have a plan for getting Castagath to come back with us? Mithrandir seemed almost agitated, as though he fears Castagath will not be easily persuaded."

"Those caves are his home. He has lived there for more than half of his life. Leaving probably feels … wrong. As though a part of him is missing." The moment the words had escaped his mouth, Estel felt his face begin to burn with shame. He had not intended to rehash his exile from Rivendell – the subject was too raw for all of them, even though it was in the past. He had felt that his world had collapsed, that nothing would ever be all right ever again. Yes, he could understand why Castagath might not wish to leave his home.

Legolas saw the red flush of color that rose in Estel's cheeks and knew that his human friend understood all too well how it felt to leave all one knew behind. He laid a reassuring hand on Estel's arm.

The twins exchanged glances for a moment, and Elladan opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it. He had no wish to make Estel uncomfortable by probing for answers he was not ready to give. He wondered if Estel's outburst was in any way a result of his nightmares. Perhaps if his dreams would cease to torment him, Estel could try to forget.


	5. Chapter 5

Title: To Mend What Has Been Broken  
Sequel to: By Some Evil Spell and Exiled  
Author: Elizabeth Goode  
Disclaimer: I have never made money from any sort of fanfiction whatsoever and am more than unlikely to ever benefit financially from such endeavors in the foreseeable future. So, no actual rangers or elves have been harmed in the making of this work of fanfiction. So there.

* * *

Estel reigned in his horse, and with a mindful glance to Elladan, dismounted before digging his map from his saddlebag. The sun was uncomfortably warm on his back, and sweat trickled down the back of his neck. The weather did not bother him – as a Ranger, he was used to the slight discomforts of outdoor life, and as a human raised among elves, he had a higher threshold of stoicism than other humans. He spread the map against the side of his horse, visualizing the terrain they had covered, letting his mind translate every hill and valley, every turn in their path onto the parchment. He then studied the parchment and gained a mental image of what was to come. Such skills had come easily to him since childhood, and he had always assumed that it was in some way in his blood.

"We have passed the three-fourths mark. We are nearly there …" A nagging worry in the back of his mind caused him to pause.

"We are nearly there, but what? I can tell from what you have not said that you perceive a problem." Elrohir dismounted and studied the map his brother held.

"The terrain gets trickier from here on out. Ithilien is a rocky place, especially near the border of Mordor. The orcs we have been trailing are likely headed for Mordor. As we continue, the chance of a surprise attack increases. There will be more places for them to hide."

Still seated in his saddle, the Prince of Mirkwood laid a hand on top of his human friend's head in a gesture of calming, laughing softly when the young human wriggled out from under his hand.

"I am not a puppy to be petted!" Estel grumped in protest.

"No, you are not. Forgive me if I am overly demonstrative. We elves have none of the prideful restrictions on affection that you _humans_ seem to prize so very much." Legolas feigned an injured sniff.

It was true. Among the Rangers, it was uncommon for one man to touch another with affection – affection was felt, but it was alluded to, or demonstrated in privacy rather than openly. Having grown up among elves, Estel had become used to being hugged, having his hair ruffled regularly, receiving kisses to his forehead and cheek. If his head ached, Elrond or one of the twins would stroke his hair or massage his temples until a healing draught took effect. If he had a sore back, he could count on a healing liniment liberally applied. During his most recent outing with the Rangers, admittedly some months ago, Strider recalled the determined awkwardness with which poor Halbarad had applied a healing plaster to a bone-deep bruise caused by an orc's shield. The man had been gentle, but was clearly unused to seeing his fellow Ranger in a state of undress. The bruise had extended from his back to his left hip, and treating the injury had been as embarrassing for both men as it had been necessary. Strider often found that Estel missed the easy affection of his elven family.

He sighed, matching Legolas' feint. "I suppose that if I've hurt your feelings, I should apologize and allow you to manhandle me as you see fit. I find that I do not mind it, especially if you give a good scratch every now and then."

Unable to hide his grin, Legolas captured the young human's head with an arm under his chin and rubbed his knuckles across the top of his head, thoroughly tangling the already straggling dark hair. "I'll show you manhandling, human!"

"Not if I get you first! Watch out for your perfect, prissy braids, Prince of Mirkwood, for they are no longer safe after what you have started!"

Elladan cleared his throat loudly. "If the two of you would stop your rough-housing and concentrate on the task at hand?"

Guiltily, the elf and ranger ceased their horseplay.

"Right. As I was saying, before I was interrupted by a prissy, head-patting elf –"

Legolas interrupted him. "As the messy-haired human in need of a bath was saying, as the terrain becomes rockier, the more dangerous this mission becomes. We must not be taken by surprise by orcs. We can use the terrain to our advantage as well. If they can hide among the rocks, so can we."

"Precisely." Estel agreed. "And, I do not need a bath. Out here, I would just get dirty again anyway."

* * *

That night as they camped, a plan was established for dealing with the possibility of meeting orcs in battle. Each night, two stood watch at a time. One would patrol the borders of the camp, while another periodically scouted ahead for danger. They would trade duties several times each night. From that night on, the plan was followed religiously. It left them cranky from lack of sleep, but naps could be taken during the day, when orcs were not about.

Estel found that he was glad of the extra precautions, not only because of the extra safety, but also because the less he slept, the less likely it was that he would be plagued with nightmares. The dreams were often so severe that upon waking, it sometimes took him several moments to be able to discern reality from dream. The shame he felt the morning after one of his dreams made his face burn with embarrassment. It had been bad enough when only Legolas knew, but now that his brothers knew, he felt as though he was under a magnifying lens.

The fire burned at the center of the camp, and Estel warmed his hands in its glow. Near the fire, Elladan and Legolas slept soundly, snug in their bedrolls. The nights were growing steadily chillier as autumn progressed, and it was Elrohir's turn to scout the perimeter of their camp for any sign of danger. When he returned, Estel would go out again. A slight snapping of twigs caused the young Ranger's head to snap erect. _Elrohir?_ It was unlikely that the elf would have made such a sound. Elves were stealthy even when they weren't trying to be. One hand on the hilt of his sword, Estel turned around slowly, listening for any further sound, any indication that it would be necessary to wake Elladan and Legolas. Nothing came. He strained his eyes against the night, staring into the trees to find any trace of danger. Just outside the range of his vision, he thought he saw a shape sliding into the shadows, but when he blinked, it was gone. _It could have been an animal – perhaps a wolf or a deer …_

A hand touched his shoulder from behind, startling him so violently that his heart nearly stopped beating from the shock. He whirled around, prepared to face orcs, wargs, or any number of terrible things, only to look into the face of Elrohir.

"Estel? Is everything all right?"

Sighing heavily, Estel brushed his hand through his hair in a gesture of relief. "I – I heard something, and I felt as though I might have seen something. It looked like a shadow – probably an animal, but – "

Elrohir shook his head. "No, Estel. Not an animal. I saw it too. Rather, I felt it. We are being watched."

* * *


End file.
